Deep Purple Endroll
by binaryShenanigans
Summary: Who ordered platonic/romantic OT3s, fluff and pretty queer girls? No one? /i did/


Lambda always hated having to sleep at night.

To watch vigilantly and go on for others was one thing, but to be expected to unwind and relax under a sea speckled with stars was another. Even to this day, weeks, months, years – the three of them had lost count and forgotten to care – after Stella was deactivated, Lambda had not gone a single night without being able to sleep in an empty bed. She had always crumbled, had always begun crying and had always decided she didn't want to be crying alone. So she always stood on wobbly feet, saw through static-snow eyes as she stumbled through the dark, whimpering through a strained throat as if stifling her cries now would make her companions worry less when they exploded upon the late-night discussions they would always have.

No matter how hard she tried, Lambda just could not get over all that happened as quickly as she thought she had to. She wanted to be perfectly well-adjusted like her companions, because she knew they were counting on her to 'get better' someday.

Rho and the doctor had begun anticipating sleepless nights, so they had taken to staying up late at night, almost waiting for Lambda to come find them, in the upstairs observatory in their home, gazing into the judging eyes of the stars and talking the night away with a cup of black tea in hand.

But tonight was different, as Dr. Realist began to test a budding theory of his.

Lambda was frozen, eyes wide open, unable to sleep, in the warm arms of the doctor. If it was difficult to sleep before, under a sky not too unlike the lonely sea Stella dwelled in, it was perhaps impossible now, in the

hazy dark of a summer evening – they had guessed it was summer anyway, judging by the conditions of the world – and the warmth of the doctor's silent breaths gently blowing in Lambda's forehead as he held her like the cracking porcelain doll he felt she was. Her arms were a little too hot tucked and folded against his chest, but the possibility of moving those arms in search of cool air and folding them over his side terrified her into even deeper silence, in which she felt afraid to breathe audibly – and naturally, her breath only became shakier and more forced.

But then the doctor shifted and sat up. He reached for his spectacles on the floor, his neck creaking as his body, feeling ancient at the time, moved. "Listen," he whispered with the coherency of someone who had clearly been awake longer than Lambda had assumed, "I'm going to go get Rho. I don't think she appreciates being alone either, you know..." Lambda faced Dr. Realist from where she still laid, her eyes wide open and eyelashes fluttering anxiously.

"You don't have to," she muttered in a half-croaking voice, "You don't even have to be here, it's not fair to distract you from whatever you want to do." Lambda's lips visibly shook as she spoke, despite her wish for it not to be noticed. But Dr. Realist was as merciless as always.

"You're nervous, and you're afraid of being loved. It makes you anxious, and you aren't used to it, and through a life of existing to bring hope to others through denial, you don't think you deserve love based in reality," the doctor began, only stopping to breathe, "That's why you don't want to sleep alone, yet the idea of having company bothers you." He stopped again, to rake his fingers through his hair, "That's my opinion on the matter, anyway."

As he stood, he smirked at the frustrated little sigh Lambda gave. It may have been his opinion, but as always, his opinion was fact.

"It's really alright," Lambda protested, anything to return to the lonely dark, "You and Rho go ahead and sleep, or whatever you want to do. Maybe I can sleep on my own tonight."

The doctor turned almost robotically on his heel, turning on the lamp in the room where Lambda normally attempted to sleep.

"For how long are you going to insist on being in denial this way? Of course, I don't mean to force you, we really don't have to do anything. But for tonight, whatever we do will be in this room. Progress is made by slowly drifting towards your goal, not by standing in one place and expecting to master that one task until you somehow magically get to your goal!" He flicked his long strand of hair out of his face, pushing up his glasses wearing that familiar smug expression. "What's really difficult is not that I have to be beside you for you to be comfortable – that's my decision and I enjoy being with you, but the fact that you're fighting Rho and I whenever we try to get closer to you. Do you dislike us?"

Lambda's chest tightened as a small squeak of "No!" escaped her throat.

"Then what is it?"

"No, it's just that-"

"It's just that what?"

Lambda stared right into the doctor's eyes, his face perhaps an inch or two from hers. It was then that she gave up, because seeing him see her was just too much all at once. It was then that she hid her face in his shoulder, standing shakily as she dug her fingers in his back and nearly twisted her ankle getting up so quickly.

Though she couldn't see it, the doctor smiled as he pet her hair, wincing under her sobs.

"I apologize, I've overlooked the biggest problem of all. We can go get Rho together if that's what you want."

Lambda nodded, unwilling to face the shame of letting anyone near her and then letting them go – then having to face herself for doing something so stupid – only for them to come back, a living reminder of just how much of a burden she really was to Rho and Dr. Realist.

As if having read her mind, the doctor went on. "You know, you're really not much of a burden to either of us. We both like you. Why do you think Rho took the trouble upon herself of shattering the deep heart sea to save you?"

"Because she had to," Lambda whimpered raggedly behind grit teeth, "If she didn't, more and more people would have been living their lives lying to themselves."

The doctor chuckled, sitting her down on the bed and kneeling in front of her, her hand in his. "There is so much you don't know about us. And there is so much we don't know about you." He looked away almost coquettishly as he went on, a humorous whine in his voice, "Why must you fight us so hard when all we want to do is love youuuu?" With that, he pushed Lambda down, wriggling his fingers against her sides until all she could do was laugh instead of cry. Of course, everything went according to plan until, in his experimental mood, tried tickling her under-arms which only resulted in Lambda locking her arms painfully shut and thrusting her knee against the doctor's chest as hard as her strength would allow, forcing a breathless grunt out of him as he collapsed at her side – this only made her laugh harder. "I see, our suffering is funny to you..." He wheezed, laughing weakly along with her, "That explains so much, fair star." To the doctor's surprise, Lambda curled up against him in the breathless aftershock of her laughter, her figure now pleasantly warm despite its shuddering.

"Alright, we can go get Rho now," she giggled, "But it'd be fine if you just want to lay down for another second." Dr. Realist chuckled softly, seeming about ready to close his eyes again, but what caught his eye was Rho standing in the open doorway, a pale hand covering her mouth as her shoulders gently shook, her voice a hushed sniffle as she watched Lambda and the doctor nestled up against each other.

Lambda was laughing, and Rho heard it.

A mere ten minutes later, Rho spoke as she sat on the edge of the bed and continued to watch Lambda sleeping in wonder. "How did you do it?" She whimpered, just now able to wipe her tears in good faith that they would stay away, "I mean, the sleeping and the laughing, and... Like, seriously, what did you do?" Dr. Realist could only shrug, smiling faintly as he shook his head.

"I only provided the means. It seems she filled the blanks on her own."

"I mean," Rho stuttered as she went on, "D-do you think she-"

"Oh, no. No, no no no. Of course not." The doctor's tone was almost scolding, and Rho felt a little like she had done something wrong. "The aim here isn't to 'fix' her. It's just to bring her up to speed the best we can. We're her family now. We're taking over the responsibility the sea had and failed at."

Rho nodded, watching the fragile Lambda sleep as peacefully as she had ever seen. "I know, that's not what I was saying." She chuckled huskily. "Don't assume I'm dumb just cause I was one of hers... What I was saying, was do you think she likes us? Do you think she appreciates us like we do her?"

The doctor glanced at Rho, seemingly impressed with her for reaching a further conclusion than he thought possible of her. "Perhaps," he murmured, for a moment unsure of his opinion. "One might think she would... Resent us for shattering the sea. Don't you?" Rho was amazed as Dr. Realist looked to her with such eyes – eyes brimming gently with fear, as if for once, he didn't quite have the answer. He thought of her as a colleague now, and nothing filled her with greater wonder.

"She might, yeah..." Rho twirled a lock of her hair, looking away and all at once feeling awkward in her elegant attire, "But... She knows it was for the best. We should trust her to get it. She's not stupid either, you know."

She smiled bitterly, remembering another lost girl she used to know. Never once did she feel like she was a waste or a disgrace, because last time, that girl was out of her reach. This time, the girl had been saved.


End file.
